


Sun Rising

by thebratqueen



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Angel Book of Days Challenge, Canon Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-03
Updated: 2003-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-31 03:44:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebratqueen/pseuds/thebratqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers to end of s4, spec for s5</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sun Rising

**Author's Note:**

  * For [omphalos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omphalos/gifts).



There was quiet. Long quiet, thoughtful quiet, _quiet_ quiet and no matter how you sliced it it spelled bad news.

Finally, Wes spoke. He had his apology voice going, which admittedly for him was a big deal but still - apology. Not acceptance. "Faith, I - "

"Hey," she said, stepping back. She gave a rolling shrug of her shoulders, abandoning the suggestion like it was nothing more than a coat she decided didn't really fit anymore. "No worries. It's already forgotten."

"It isn't that I - "

Faith didn't want to hear it. "Wes, seriously, we're good. I gotta motor anyway. Tell Angel bye for me? Maybe I'll catch him next week at that thing if he's not too busy."

"I'll tell him," Wes said, looking like the idea wasn't sitting too well. "But you don't _have_ to go if you don't want to."

"Girl's gotta keep to a schedule," Faith said, then lied because it made things a little easier. "Besides, I told Robin we'd hang tonight and you know - "

"I know," Wes said, and somehow him doing that only made it worse.

"Right," Faith said. There was more quiet, then she found her fake smile again. "So - later."

She left Wes's office and went back to the hotel room that was passing for home.

***

Stupid, Faith thought, from the comfort - well, at these prices you wouldn't call it _comfort_ \- of her bed. She stretched her legs out in front of her, crossing them at the ankles, and thought to herself that of everybody she'd ever known she, by far, was probably the dumbest of the bunch. Either that or the craziest. What was that definition of crazy again? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? Sounded about right to her. Then again she didn't feel crazy. Crazy was the thing that was addictive and kind of fun back when killing people was a lifestyle choice. No, this wasn't crazy. It was just - she shook her head, disappointed in herself - stupid. All these years and you'd think she'd have learned to give up on the guy thing. But nope. She kept trying. Same thing, over and over again. For nineteen, no, twenty, no - 

Thinking it over, she had to admit that really she'd lost count. But if she was going to _start_ a count it would have to be at, no question, Johnny Harrington. Sat behind her for years in school and together the two of them had done that _thing_. That bonding thing where you look somebody in the eye and know that yeah, no question, they get your home life 'cause they're living it too.

'course in elementary school that pretty much covered it on the subtleties. Sure Faith heard whispers about her being a freak and about the money thing, but she hadn't really _got_ it or why until later, when she'd managed to liberate a bike from the Goodwill one Christmas, peddled her way over to Johnny's place and saw - shit - biggest house she'd ever seen. Biggest house she could even _imagine_. No freaking wonder everybody said she and Johnny shouldn't be hanging.

But the cool thing was Johnny hadn't cared about that. The two of them had been buds from the start and he wasn't gonna make a big deal.

And then that summer - right after sixth grade - it was that weird time when it looked like everybody had somehow managed to book out of town, Johnny's parents included, so Faith peddled over to his place or he peddled over to hers or they met up somewhere in the middle and just did their thing with nobody giving them shit about shit. They did catch and hide and seek and swimming and all the stupid stuff you do when one of you, at least, doesn't have money and the other one doesn't want to be a big show off. So yeah sometimes he'd buy but then Faith would get him back by teaching him how to throw a real punch or something and it was cool.

Then seventh grade came up and they did that thing where it was a new school and everybody had different classes and the two of them didn't really see each other much except to say hey when they passed in the hall. Which was fine 'cause that happened. And Faith didn't care about it, or she didn't _think_ she cared about it, until summer came around again and the few people who sort of passed for friends weren't around anymore and, whaddya know, there came Johnny again.

So they hung which was cool, but now it was different. Johnny's mom was around more and constantly giving her the evil eye, and Johnny's _guy_ friends were assholes when you came right down to it, but Johnny himself was still her bud and that was all that counted.

Which was why, when there were maybe four weeks left until school, Faith hadn't thought it was a big deal to go with Johnny to the annual carnival. He paid for most stuff, like he usually did. They rode the rides - he got sick - and walked back in the dark, picking their way through the crappy sidewalks that weren't really sidewalks and half-heartedly trying to catch lightening bugs when - bam! - not so much walking and instead there's kissing.

Faith had been kind of pissed at first - hello, _warn_ a girl or something - but in the end what was the damage? She'd gotten more than advance notice on the whole birds and bees thing thanks to mom and her rotating supply of boyfriends and she had to say it had some appeal.

So they'd kissed and made out and fumbled away around the whole bases concept without either of them really knowing what the specific bases _were_ and then nights out with Johnny became a whole new thing. Faith would sneak out, he would sneak out, they'd meet up not far from that graveyard by the lake that was a _primo_ horror movie setting except for the fact that Faith had felt pretty comfortable there and nobody else came to bother them.

Kissing and fumbling lead to touching and rubbing and finally, one night, Faith thought to herself _Fuck it_ and hiked up her skirt, straddled his hips and started rocking because she was getting frustrated with stuff that, let's face it, she could've done on her own at home.

Johnny had looked up at her like - _whoa_ \- best girlfriend on earth status, right there, and they'd gotten rid of clothes and rolled around on the grass and took about 3 tries to get Johnny to concentrate enough to _get_ his dick where it was supposed to go and, okay, _ow_ but then it was _nice_ and Faith had liked it and kept going for it and moving under him, over him, next to him and _oh yeah_ this was _good_.

They'd fucked all night - Faith seeing no reason to stop when she was enjoying herself - and Johnny enjoyed himself too, right up until the morning when at some point they _both_ went to sleep but _he_ woke up first and left _her_ in the grass.

Then they didn't hang out anymore, 'cause for some reason Johnny couldn't meet her eyes. School started, they did their thing, and then one time they bumped into each other in the stairwell and Johnny had gotten all stammery and twitchy and said something about "Sorry, but - " and Faith told him to save it, she was already past it and moved on.

***

After Johnny came... Faith scrunched up her face, thinking about it. Shit. A _lot_. She tried to count it on her fingers but couldn't even guess a figure. No matter. The number wasn't important. Neither were the guys.

It wasn't that she'd been a _slut_ or anything. In Faith's mind, sluts were the girls who did it because they wanted the guys to like them. Like snotty Caitlin, little Miss Cheerleader and class president, who looked down her nose at anybody who didn't show school pep and sign petitions about whatever political shit she was into at the moment and who did _not_ , publically, act like someone who'd even _heard_ of having sex, except when it came to rolling around underneath the bleachers every Friday night with whoever on the team was giving her the time of day that week. _That_ was a slut.

Faith? She just liked it. So she found boys that were okay enough and went to town. What could she say? She had needs. When the boys got her bored she went on to men.

Then she became the Slayer and _that_ put a crimp in the schedule.

***

Being the Slayer had felt _great_. Like finally _somebody_ had noticed how much she was suffering under the whole regular life expectations thing and said nope! Sorry! We fucked up. You're actually pretty kick ass and we're gonna let _you_ kick ass just to show how sorry we are.

I mean - super powers! Saving the world! That was heavy shit, right there, and, sure, it was _bigger_ than her but she knew she could handle it. Just her and her Watcher, Thelma and Louise, but without the lezzie vibe. Not that Faith would've been against that _either_ but - it would've been weird. Watchers and Slayers didn't do that, and Faith kind of liked that in the end. It was nice having somebody watch her back just to watch her back instead of watching her back because they wanted to paw her front.

Until that _asshole_ Kakistos had come along and then yeah, Faith _got_ the Slayer thing. Loud and clear. One girl in all the world to get _fucked_ over and not in the fun way. Well screw _that_ sideways. 

That was the summer that she moved a lot. Learned how to work the buses and trains - even without a ticket. Crisscrossed all over, fighting vamps when she found them because _that_ felt good, _that_ felt like a mission, right there. And guys had been easy. Useable. Good for a place to crash or a meal or whatever she needed. She learned to ride bikes then - _real_ bikes, the kind of Hogs that made you deaf from miles away - and peeled down highways, large and in charge and _not_ running from her problems, no sir, just, you know, _dealing_.

***

Of course after that came Sunnydale and, well, enough time wasted on memory lane with _that_ already.

***

No, if Faith was going to be honest she'd have to swing forward a bit more. Haul the time machine back to that first summer in jail. New girl on the block, lots of room for problems there. Even more room when part of the problems were all her own. Lotta fights, lotta inmates thinking they could throw down with her. Few inmates thinking they could hook up. 

Few guards thinking it as well.

Faith had thought about it, but in the end decided not to. She was doing an atoning thing, and she had to admit she liked Angel's way of doing it, even if Angel's way wasn't exactly his way by _choice_. But it was cool. Focused. Faith felt like she needed a lot of focus so she did like Angel. Exercised the willpower, lived in the now.

It gave her and Angel shit to talk about. He'd gone through Hell and a half with the office getting blown up, plus the demons and nasty vamps weren't killing themselves, so he'd come by every week, sometimes even more than that, sit on the other side of that glass and just talk. Faith had liked that. She'd liked - heck, _still_ liked - Angel. That kindred spirits under the skin thing which had been seriously obnoxious back in Sunny D wasn't so bad once Faith realized that Angel hadn't meant it as an insult. Hell, with Angel it was an _apology_. He was all on board the fact that living his life had to suck and misery might love company but Angel, unlike his other half, wasn't _that_ much of a sadist.

So they talked. Faith told him about her routines and he never acted bored by it. She told him some stuff she couldn't tell anybody about on the inside and he listened in that quiet way he did. Some times he showed up and told _her_ stuff she felt he wasn't saying to anybody. It was nice, being trusted.

The gals in her cell block loved to razz her for it - "Hey, Faithy, that pretty boy your _boyfriend_? You sure he doesn't have one of his _own_?" - but Faith knew they were just jealous as all shit. There wasn't a one of them who wouldn't get down in a heartbeat if Angel tossed one of those rare smiles or even a come-hither motion their way, probably even if they _knew_ he was a vamp. Angel was powerful stuff, and they could tell.

Which was why it was also a nice thing. 'cause in a way it felt like Angel was also _hers_.

Yeah, sure, she didn't get _so_ stupid as to think they were _dating_ or some shit. She wasn't _that_ dumb. But this was different. _Bonding_ different. Something she and Angel shared that _nobody_ else could. Because nobody else got what they were going through. Nobody knew that fucking _weight_ of wanting to give it all up and stop trying to be good again, or the pressure of keeping it together, or what it felt like to be lying awake at night just _wanting_ to do something bad, real bad, like an itch all over your skin and having that go on for _weeks_ until one day, by some miracle, you think "Huh, maybe I don't feel like it right now." and it's weird but it's a relief.

Angel got it. Which was why Faith liked their arrangement, not that he'd asked for an arrangement. But it felt like supporting him from inside in jail. Making sure that _he_ had company for all _his_ shit just like he was giving her company for hers.

Then Angel stopped visiting as much. Weeks would go by and then he'd show up, distracted, making small talk and mentioning stuff about Darla - did she know about Darla? Yeah, Darla, and him, and there was history and it was complicated and it was great seeing her but he really had to go now.

Then there was no Angel for months. Then, early one summer, she got a visit from Willow who sat stiffly, talked uncomfortably, and did her the rare courtesy of saying that Buffy had snuffed it.

Then Faith didn't get any visitors at all.

***

So, you know, strike two if you really want to think about it. Not that Faith had been thinking of herself as at bat but that was the metaphor that damn near begged to be used. Especially when next up was number three: Robin.

Robin had been... freaky. Not Robin himself. Nah, he was actually pretty cool. Cooler than cool, when you got right down to it. And the way he treated her, all normal and shit, made her wonder sometimes about Buffy. And Riley. And if B had had this kind of thing with soldier-boy, where he _gets_ the whole life mission to fight demons thing but at the same time said, Faith imagined, his please and thank yous, and held the door open for you and actually knew what a date _was_ , let alone asked you out on 'em.

Son of a Slayer aside, Robin was actually the most normal guy she'd ever hung with since becoming Chosen Number Two in the first place. He healed up okay after Sunnydale and, not that they really _talked_ about it, but after a while it became obvious that as far as Scoobies went the two of them _weren't_ any so why not say their goodbyes, splinter off, and go do their own thing?

They traveled. Robin got a car - "Always helps to have money set aside" - stocked up on weapons, roamed around, fought the nasties, talked.

 _Talked_. Now _there_ was a freaky thing.

Turned out that Robin's first big offering on the surprise-o-meter was _not_ trying to get into her pants. Nope, instead he wanted to "take time" and "get to know her as a person". Which apparently meant doing stuff like making chit chat over dinner, which Faith _so_ did not want to do because she did _not_ make with the small talk. But Robin was so damn _nice_ about it and, let's face it, the romp in the sack hadn't been _that_ bad so yeah, maybe she sort-of, kind-of, possibly liked him.

Plus she was turning her shit around, right? Bad Girl Slayer: now redeemed. And even though nobody was there to judge her except herself, she felt like she _had_ to do this. Had to try, to show she _could_ be normal. Especially since even _she_ didn't know the answer to that one.

Still, she got help. Some nights she fished out enough quarters to grab a payphone and make a connection in LA.

"How's it going?" Angel would ask, always making time for her no matter what lawyer shit he was in the middle of.

"Major panic," Faith would say. "He says he wants to do _formal_ dinner now. What the Hell is that?"

The vampire would think it over. "I think it means you have to wear a dress."

"Well _shit_."

"C'mon, you can do it."

"You know I don't remember _you_ having to wear a dress to make up for all the fuck ups you've done."

"Neener neener."

"Yeah, bite me. And that's _not_ an invitation for a repeat."

"Hardy har."

So there were formal dinners and not so formal dinners and coffees and hot dogs and ice cream and after a while Faith wondered if Robin was trying to seduce her or fatten her up for slaughter but it went okay. They muddled through, somehow she found enough small things to talk about, and after a few weeks on the road they got back to the sex thing and _that_ , at least, was steadier ground. They checked into the same hotel room, after that, and Faith amused herself by playing up the age difference and, depending on the town, the racial thing to the tight-assed jerks that were sometimes behind the checkout counter.

"Oh, Mr. Wood," she'd coo, batting her eyes like she was all of sixteen again, "are you _sure_ this field trip's gonna be a part of my grade?" and Robin would roll his eyes and kind of laugh at it but sometimes kind of not.

Which, Faith figured, in hindsight probably should've told her something.

***

About a year after Sunnydale became a big hole in the ground, Faith and Robin found themselves heading to LA. It was a combination of timing, with that. Robin had a reunion thing with some friends and Angel was ass-deep in the usual trouble that always managed to reach boiling point come May or June. Faith and Robin pitched in, lent a hand. This gave Angel a chance to actually _meet_ Robin and Faith found herself not knowing if she should laugh of be touched when Angel approached the whole thing with this "So what _are_ your intentions towards my daughter?" air which was pretty kinky when you considered some of the stuff she and Angel had shared, even if it hadn't always been consensually or, for that matter, consummated. But still, protecting people was Angel's deal and it was nice watching him do it.

Wes had showed up, right about then. Looked at Robin and Angel doing the macho-posturing thing and asked Faith what was up. Faith explained the boyfriend sitch and Wes had just taken it in stride. Asked her how long they'd been together - and Faith recognized the small talk now - and she surprised herself by admitting it'd been a year.

Wes had kind of looked surprised too, but if he was he didn't say anything. Instead he just said congratulations and that was that.

The big bad that time around turned out to be one of the firm's former clients. He - since you might as well call it a he for lack of a better term - hadn't looked too kindly on Angel being the new man in charge and had been spending the past few months trying to do something that could basically be called a hostile takeover - half paperwork, half actual hostility.

Maybe a week after she and Robin got there the whole thing blew up - somewhat literally, as the bomb was enough to take out three of the top floors, including Angel's apartment. That made it _personal_ then and the time came to deliver smack-downs. Faith found herself teamed up with Wes and Angel again (Robin did what he could to watch Gunn, Lorne and Fred's back) and then it was just like last year, her and Wes, but now with Angel _with_ them instead of being the enemy. They went out, saved the day, came back laughing and covered with goo. It was like old times, except they'd never really done this before. But it was like the old times they _should_ have had and it was just as good.

Faith found herself not minding LA then. It wasn't like Sunnydale where she didn't know the secret handshake. Nah, LA was the place where you were _beyond_ the secret handshake. You didn't even have to have one now, because you had the secret look. The one that said you'd done shit people in Sunnydale, even oh-so-naughty Willow, just didn't _get_. 'cause sure, Willow had gone scary-evil, but that had been _grief_. And _magic_. Wasn't the same thing by half. Wasn't like what she'd done, or what Angel had done even with the soul.

Or, for that matter, like Wes.

Faith didn't know the full story on Wes. She knew he'd changed back when he got her out of jail, but the two of them had never really sat down to talk about it. The whole Angelus problem had kept them a little busy. Now, though, Faith was curious. She asked Wes about it and all he offered was "Things change." She asked Angel and then immediately regretted it when she saw the look in his eyes.

"It's... complicated," was all Angel would say about it. She didn't like hurting Angel, though, so she didn't push.

But Wes, Wes was definitely in the club. Faith found herself hanging with Wes and Angel, shooting the shit, grabbing beers after work and talking about stuff. Not small talk, or even the encounter-group type stuff she and Angel had done back during jail time. But _talking_. Saying stuff and hearing the other person go "Yeah." and "I get that." Even Wes, who normally didn't share. They stayed out for hours. Not every night, but often enough. And some nights it even lasted until day - Angel begging off, so he could make it out to his protected limo okay, Wes and Faith watching the sun come up and grabbing some breakfast before finally heading home.

Sometimes they would abandon Wes's car and walk back - Faith teasing him about nobody being allowed to do that in LA. They would keep talking and one day Wes stopped, looked across the street at a bar that was closed, and got quiet. Faith asked what was up and Wes said he was remembering. Two years ago, on about that day, he'd been with someone in that bar and - 

"Lilah?" Faith guessed, having gotten the gossip on that already.

"Yes," Wes admitted. He looked at Faith, curious. "Is it wrong of me to linger on that? Considering?"

Considering _what_ Faith had no idea. But she gave it her best shot. "Hey - you feel what you gotta feel."

"Indeed."

Then they'd continued the walk home.

***

In her free time, Faith was with Robin. She went to his shindigs, hung out with his friends. Sat around at backyard barbeques with a plastic cup in one hand and a Dixie plate in the other, insisting that she was good on the burger front, really, while Robin talked with his buddies, joked around, started the improv games of touch football and picked up old arguments about who was out of bounds back in the summer of '99 and who had been too drunk off their ass to remember _playing_ the game, let alone the _details_ of it.

Then, when the night was done, they'd drift back together, hang out by the pool - and how freaky was _that_? His friends having pools? - make with the small talk and then go back to their room.

Faith wasn't sure when, exactly, she'd started to realize it wasn't working.

No, that was a lie.

If she told the _truth_ she knew. But if she _lied_ , which she ended up doing to herself for a month and a half, she didn't know. All she knew was that Robin's friends were nice - some of 'em were even demon hunters - but they didn't _get_ her and she didn't really get them and it made for awkward conversations were it wasn't like they _hated_ each other but it wasn't like they would have made excuses to hang out together if it wasn't for Robin either. So each outing started to make her feel like she was back with the Scoobies again - surrounded by people who at best were nice to her because they genuinely wanted to _try_ and at worst who were nice to her because they felt like they were _supposed_ to be.

Then there was her and Robin. Turned out a year was easy to do when you never stayed in one place. Traveling the country gave you a lot to react to. A lot _outside_ of yourself. Stay put, though, and you start to notice the little stuff. The fights were stupid - who used the last towel, who forgot to sharpen new stakes, who left their clothes all over the floor when they came back - but Faith had a feeling these weren't the kinds of fights you had or cared about if the _big_ shit was taken care of. Somehow she knew that when they were in a shouting match - usually Faith shouting, Robin just being real calm - about rolled up socks it wasn't _really_ about the socks. It was about them not working on a lot of levels no matter how many fancy dinners he took her to.

And that - man, it was mean but that was _it_ when you got right down to it. Robin was nice, better than most, but he was _too_ nice, really. Because Faith didn't _want_ the fancy dinners. Not like that. Sure the food was good but - 

Faith sighed. This was when she had to stop lying to herself.

The _real_ problem was more than that.

Yeah, the rest helped. The friends that weren't her friends, the dumbass fights, the works - all part of it. But when you got right down to it it might not have happened - or at least not have happened so _quickly_ \- if it hadn't been for Wes.

***

They'd been killing some whateverthefucks. It'd been a late night to start with, Angel was off at some meeting, the rest of the gang were doing whatever it was they did and when the Bat signal went up it turned out only Faith and Wes could answer it.

So they rode out, did their thing. Came back to the office to file the necessary paperwork. They were hungry as Hell so Wes ordered in Thai. Then they'd plunked down - Wes putting his _own_ feet up on the furniture - to eat the food right out of the cartons and wash it down with warm soda since they both felt too lazy to get ice out of the machine.

They'd laughed, rehashed the battle. Faith teased the shit out of Wes by making fun of his fighting, Wes giving as good as he got by pointing out she _still_ couldn't top telegraphing her moves and too bad she didn't have some _Watcher_ who could _help_ her with that and she'd pointed out why, did he know any and it had gone on from there. Strange banter, considering the past and all the people who were dead, but it worked and they managed it.

Then the night had gone on. They were too tired to leave, too awake to sleep, and they ended up on the couch in Wes's office, this big brown creaky leather thing, with Wes's feet up on the coffee table and Faith sort of sitting and sort of lying down beside him. She held his wrist with one hand and poked and prodded at the sword-crossbow-whatever it was _thing_ with the other, trying to see where the buttons were and asking him over and over "But how does it _work_?"

Wes had finally turned to her, reaching over to show her, when he stopped, and she stopped, and she looked up at him, all blue eyes and bad shave and kind of sweaty, still, from the fight, and she thought to herself: _Holy shit. I could kiss him._

And then Wes hadn't told her anything about his weapon at all. Instead he got up and said good night.

***

So while strike three was in the process of getting Faith kicked out of the ballpark, or whatever it was striking out made you do, strike four was on deck and ready to seal the deal.

It didn't mess things up with her and Wes. Not from Wes's side, anyway. He didn't treat her any differently after that. They still hung out, still killed bad guys, still bonded over dark jokes that girls like Fred didn't get. And if Wes mentioned Robin a few more times in conversation than he usually did - well who could say if that was on purpose or if Faith was just noticing it more?

Faith, though, didn't know what to do about it. Especially when Robin, maybe guessing that something was wrong, started making more of an effort. They went out on patrols together. Talked a lot about old times. Re-bonded over the difficulties of trying to deal with people like the gang from Sunnydale.

It was enough to make her think she should be in love with him. This realization came at the same time she figured out she wasn't and wasn't ever going to be.

"What do you do?" Faith asked Angel once, when it was just the two of them. 

"When?"

"When you know you're not going to be normal," Faith said. She hadn't told him about Robin, or Wes, or any of it. But something in Angel's eyes said she maybe didn't have to. "When you get everything that you're supposed to want to have and you realize - that's not what you want to be."

Angel shrugged. "Then be what you want."

Faith thought about it, and about things she'd done which gave her no right to ask for that stuff. "What if that's no good either?"

Angel, no stranger to karma earned from tortures past, admitted "I'm still figuring that out."

***

Faith and Robin broke up.

The whole thing was easy. Natural progression. One day she came back to the hotel room to find him packed and that was it.

"I think we..." Robin said, drawing the pause out like they were at a meeting or something "did all we could."

Faith tried to work up some emotion for all this. Anger, or maybe disappointment.

All she could find was relief.

"S'okay," she told him. "I'm over it. I've already moved on."

***

She didn't tell anybody about it. She didn't have to. He didn't hang out with Angel and the gang much so all she had to do to avoid looks of pity was to say vague stuff about Robin being elsewhere. Not that anybody asked much, which was probably another sign of how doomed the whole thing had been right there.

Everybody went with it and she got to stay. She kept fighting the bad guys, kept hanging with Wes and Angel.

Kept thinking about Wes.

Which was just _stupid_ when you got right down to it. She wasn't _looking_ for a relationship, she'd just gotten _out_ of a relationship and Wes didn't want to _give_ her a relationship so what the Hell was she on?

But the thing of it was, she liked Wes. _This_ Wes. The one who didn't give a shit about the little things anymore. Who took the necessary crap of their jobs without complaining. Who had Angel's back almost faster than she could.

Who got, too, the Slayer thing. Who didn't do things like offer to hold her bags or open doors for her because he knew that she was stronger than he was and if anybody should be offering it was her to him. And who didn't, in spite of what she and Angel both guessed was a pretty chi-chi background, think that the way to spend time with her was to do things that she'd never done just because she was "supposed" to. Nah - Wes knew that she was never going to like opera, she didn't like having to cram herself into fancy dresses, and dinner could taste just as good in front of a TV as it could at some place where the salt shaker alone cost more than any home Faith could afford.

Johnny had treated her like a convenience. Angel had treated her like a sister. Robin had treated her like a pet project.

Wes treated her like her.

Which was why one night, all alone in Wes's office again, she'd bypassed their usual joking and flat-out asked "Do you wanna come back to my place with me?"

And then Wes turned her down.

***

Faith pulled herself out of this reverie. The maudlin crap, though tempting, was just _not_ gonna cut it. She got up, gathered up stakes. No way was she going to sit at home like some clichéd kid when she could be going out and dusting things. No man? No problem. She didn't need one.

She opened the door, shrugging into her leather jacket.

Wes was there.

"I have a girlfriend," he said.

Faith blinked. She thought over every conversation she'd had with Wes - or anybody else he knew for that matter. "Since when?"

"Four months now," Wes said. "I - I haven't told anyone. She isn't in our line of business. I thought it might be best to keep it private."

"Oh," Faith said. Then she remembered the conversation outside of the bar: _Considering?_ " _Oh_."

"Indeed," Wes said. He leaned against the doorframe. "It does make things complicated."

"How come?"

For an answer, Wes kissed her.

It was deep. Rough. Scratchy, with Wes's stubble. It was the kind of thing where Faith couldn't tell if Wes was kissing her or she was kissing him. He stooped down, she got up on tiptoe, then gave up entirely and wrapped her legs around him, hanging on to his shoulders for support.

Wes broke away. "I don't - you and Robin - "

"Done," she told him. "Doner than done. Left LA weeks ago."

"Ah," Wes said. "Good."

They went over to the bed. Wes's hands were hard, determined. Faith was ready to take her clothes off and go to town right then and there, but Wes didn't want to play that way. Instead he went at his own pace, mouthing her breasts through her shirt, palming his hands down her sides, then driving her nuts with two well-placed fingers right on the inseam of her pants. He touched her, vibrated his fingers, then tugged her pants off and replaced his fingers with his mouth and Faith didn't know if it was the British thing or Wes actually showing the _advantages_ of the age difference or both, but either way she liked it and did _not_ see a reason for him to stop. His lips and tongue were all over her, in her, around her, and soon her legs were trembling and her chest was heaving and she was saying "Wes - Jesus - I'm gonna - if you - I'm not - " and then wham! Orgasm, her body quivering around Wes's tongue as he kept lapping at her, teasing a few more shudders out of her system.

"Pretty generous," she murmured, when she finally came down a bit.

Wes simply looked at her, matter-of fact. "You're younger, you're a Slayer and you're female. You'll recover. Now it's my turn."

Faith laughed. Then she grabbed him. She kissed the taste of herself right off of him, then rolled him over, pinning him down with her strength. She teased him, finding out that Wes liked it when somebody held him down, rode his hips mercilessly, and sucked his neck and chest hard enough to leave hickeys that lasted until dawn. He took it, not challenging her, but encouraging her. Fighting just to feel her fight back, biting her lips just so she would bite his in return. And in the end when she finally let him go long enough to take off his shirt and his pants she was already hot and ready to go once more.

He had condoms. She provided one of her own, sliding it down his dick with her lips until she could tell he was ready to lose it from that alone. She moved back up, stole the breath right out of his mouth, then finally let him get inside. It brought a groan out of both of them, and soon she was working his cock as much to get herself off as she was him.

But Wes didn't mind. Instead he held her back, let her take control, and didn't say anything except her name over and over again until he finally cried out, happy.

***

By morning they were exhausted, both of them covered with some fairly interesting bruises.

"Looks like long sleeves for you," Faith said, admiring the handiwork she'd left around his arms and wrists.

"I'll manage," Wes said. He turned onto his side, burrowing his face into her hair. "Perhaps I'll wear short sleeves. Abandon all pretense."

"What about your chica?" Faith asked, ready for Wes to say this was a one time deal.

Wes got thoughtful. "You know, it's interesting...."

Faith got quiet. Listened as Wes talked to her about _his_ strikeouts past. She heard about the crush on his next-door neighbor. The girl at 17 who'd finally slept with him. The one at 20 with the pregnancy scare and the abortion he'd paid for, even though he'd secretly wanted the kid. The one at 25 who'd been the worst break up ever, done right in front of his family, with screaming and yelling and secrets laid out for everyone to see.

He told her about one night stands, and about Cordy. About Virginia, and Fred. 

About Lilah, and finding out for the first time he wanted _more_ than Cordy, Virginia and Fred.

"But what about the new girl?" Faith asked, when he finally wound down.

"Met her at a coffee shop," Wesley said. "Very pleasant. Lovely, in fact."

"But...?"

"Do you ever," Wes asked, "have moments when you realize that even though you might have everything you _should_ want, it isn't what you want at all?"

Faith smiled. Curled closer to him. "Yeah. Sometimes I do."

They lay there, together, and watched the sun rise. And then watched a lot more sun rises after that.

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Omphalos in the Angel Book of Days Summer Challenge. Prompt: Faith, a violent but consensual sexual encounter.


End file.
